Most of the time.
“You know I’m just looking out for you,” James said as they continued to walk. “I don’t want anything to ruin your life, even if you are going to a horrible college next year.” He punched Ien playfully in the arm, relieving some of the tension weighing down the air.
“Horrible? I think you have it all wrong. Harvard is the fraud. Not Yale.” Ien threw a light punch as James dodged out of the way.
The boys teased and joked, talking about school, upcoming graduation plans, and life after Chadwick. Ien released a heavy breath and smiled.
The respite didn’t last for long and Ien again lost himself to the thoughts of maintaining the status quo and living up to Mother’s incessant expectations.
He had always followed Mother’s instructions in the past. She would assume nothing less from him this time. When she told him to focus on economics and science, he did—even though he despised both subjects. When she said that Yale was to follow Chadwick, he acquiesced, even though his dream was to study music abroad. That’s how it always was with New York’s elite. Decisions never belonged to the children—only to the parents. And always for the betterment of the family.
This new rule, however—the forget about Kiera and music and do your duty rule—was unacceptable. Ien simply couldn’t play along this time, regardless of the cost. Too much had changed. Kiera was part of him now. And to her, he was never a disappointment.
Mother’s voice echoed through Ien’s mind. “You will not see her again, Ien. Promise me.”
He never did make that promise. Instead he confided in James, and although James didn’t approve of what Ien wanted to do, he’d agreed to help. It was James’s idea to leave as the rest of Chadwick went to dinner, walking through the wooded hills that separated Chadwick and Whitehall. It certainly wasn’t the quickest way between the schools, but it was the safest, at least before the sun went down.
At night, gypsies seemed to pour from the trees themselves, making camp in the forest. Mother warned Ien never to cross the ragtag band of vagabonds, calling them nothing more than thieves and scoundrels. It was the only warning Ien heeded. Something about the gypsies reminded him of his worst nightmares, and he’d do anything to avoid them.
Anything.
Ien would have to stick to the roads through town and risk being seen to get home. Mother’s spies were everywhere, especially now that she saw how close she was to losing him. Being born into the wealthiest and most famous family in New England had one major drawback, privacy was a luxury seldom given. Everyone watched the Montgomerys, waiting for one of them to do something of ill repute. Mother refused for any of her children to be at the center of rumor.
“Ien, have you heard anything I’ve said?” A hint of annoyance coated James’s voice and Ien pulled up short, not realizing James had stopped walking. “Ien?”
“Sorry,” Ien mumbled, desperately attempting to reclaim a conversation he hadn’t heard. James started walking again, his shoulders stiff, his jaw set. He hated being ignored.
The path through the woods was well worn, forged years earlier by boys and girls finding their way between the two schools, hidden from suspecting eyes. Ien broke into a clearing after several yards of silence. The marble pillars of Whitehall came into view, sending a tremor through him. Like Chadwick, Whitehall was considered an elite school, known for turning out the very best girls. Educated in art, music and literature, Whitehall girls were well prepared to take on their roles as loyal wives to New York’s royalty. Every family expected their Chadwick sons to marry Whitehall daughters.
“Thank you for helping me. I know you don’t approve.” Fear tightened Ien’s cells.
“You’re right, I don’t approve,” James said. “You’re committing social suicide. But…”
“But?”
“You’ve helped me out enough times. I guess this is the least I can do. Besides, someone has to be around to pick up the pieces when this whole thing blows up.”
Ien smiled. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. Trust me.”
“If you say so.”
Ien and James stopped at the edge of the school’s great lawn, near the main building. Ien’s nerves continued to explode through his body. “So, what’s your plan? How are you sneaking me in?”
“How about through the front door,” James said through a mischievous smile, his previous annoyances forgotten.
A frown formed on Ien’s face. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve decided to call on Miss Kiera this evening.” James pulled out a small piece of parchment with his name embossed in the center.
“When did you get those?” Ien asked, his laughter releasing a measure of tension.
“My father practically ordered me to start thinking about the rest of my life—marriage, obligations and such.” James said. “Like courting someone I have no interest in will somehow do that.” James shook his head. “But, it suits our purposes tonight beautifully. Kiera makes a great call, don’t you think? Particularly since all three of our families will hear about it before the sun sets.”
Ien laughed again. “Brilliant,” he said. “But, what about me? Why, exactly, am I with you?”
“You aren’t.” James smiled and explained his plan. “You go and hide near the conservatory window. I’ll let you in once we figure out how to get rid of Kiera’s chaperone.”
“Nice.” Ien knew his friend’s unquestioning loyalty was enough to ensure success.
“You know me, always looking for ways to bend a few rules.” James laughed, the sound hollow. He may be trying to help, but Ien suspected it wasn’t by choice but rather, obligation.
Ien played with the ring again as he watched James ascend the steps to the front entrance of the school. It was almost time. With a nervous sigh he made his way over to the windows gracing one wall of the conservatory and tucked himself behind the hedges.
Placing his palm flat against the glass, Ien felt tiny vibrations travel the length of his arm. Someone was always practicing at Whitehall and usually it was Kiera. He placed his ear against the glass. Staccato rhythms jarred through the window. Whoever it was playing the piano, it was definitely not Kiera. She was better—far better. And she only ever practiced the violin.
Whitehall was well known for music. Unlike Chadwick, Whitehall housed a conservatory and the town’s only concert hall. The room boasted a wooden floor and plain walls filled with cupboards and alcoves. Two pianos, salon grands, faced the center of the room. String and wind instruments of every sort were stuffed into the wall openings and cupboards and Whitehall girls were expected to learn most of them, especially the piano.
Kiera was no exception. She could play any instrument put before her. But her favorite, much to the frustration of her family, was the violin. Ien recalled the sounds Kiera could draw from her instrument, picturing how she would pull the bow across the strings. Music took shape in his thoughts and drowned out the horrid piano fragments still coming through the window. He drew a breath as the imagined music enveloped him.
Kiera had a rare gift, one she intended to share with the world, regardless of her family’s pressures to only play the piano in public, never the violin. She refused to acquiesce to societies demands. And neither would Ien.
The music stopped as the sun dipped low into the horizon, ducking behind the school and casting orange and pink hues across the buildings. Ien reached into his trouser pocket and played with the ring, turning it nervously. Questions riddled his thoughts. What if she says no? What if I’m wrong about her feelings? What if she thinks I’m crazy? What if . . . what if . . . ? The questions were relentless, woven together with his mother’s threats and James’s warnings.
Maybe James was right.
Maybe this was a bad idea; a really bad idea. He sat back against the wall and his head dropped forward. He obsessed over every detail of his plan, his family’s reactions. Each thought brought him back to the same conclusion—there was no way this was going to work.
Where are you James? What’s taking so long?
Ien stood, stretching out his legs. The sun had disappeared behind the landscape, painting the sky in an ink-like darkness. Come on, he thought as he paced. His resolve was slipping away. He had to see Kiera before it was gone completely.
He peered through the conservatory window, his hands shoved deep into his pockets searching for the ring. James and Kiera stood in the center of the room. He looked mad, frustrated. His mouth moved in rapid clips, his face hard. Kiera was speaking as well, trying to calm James down, by the looks of it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her mouth turned into a wistful smile. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Ien watched James nod and close his eyes. After a moment, he opened them and stretched his neck. Drawing his mouth into a grim line, he walked to the window.
“We got rid of the chaperone,” he said as he threw open the window. His voice was tight, angry. “You don’t have much time.”
Ien nodded and climbed through the too-narrow opening, spilling onto the floor. “Is everything alright?”
James ignored the question as he helped Ien to his feet.
“Are you sure about this?” James whispered. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“I’m sure.” Ien looked past James, focusing entirely on Kiera.
Her hair hung free around her shoulders, just like he’d pictured. She wore his favorite emerald dress, an exact match to her eyes. On her pale neck, a familiar piece of jewelry—her mother’s cameo, a reminder of the frailty of life.
Kiera’s mother had died just after childbirth, leaving a collection of governesses and well-meaning aunts to care for her child. Kiera never spoke of the loss to anyone but Ien.
Her hand went to her neck, caressing the cameo for a brief moment. “I can’t believe you came.” Desperation laced her voice. Or maybe it was concern.
“Of course I’m here.” Ien closed the distance between them. “I’d never want to be anywhere else.”
James cleared his throat abruptly. “It’s time for me to go.” He pinned Ien with his gaze. “Think about this. Please.” James nodded at Kiera as he started to leave the room.
Neither Ien nor Kiera acknowledged James’s words, or how and when he left. They could only see each other. And for a moment, time stopped.
Ien brushed Kiera’s skin with his long fingers, turning it into gooseflesh. He heard her gasp, wondering if she felt the same current between them, one more powerful than any of the new electric lights that adorned the fancy hotels on Main Street.
“I heard about your mother,” Kiera said. “I heard she forbade you to visit me. Forbade us from being together in any way.”
“Don’t worry about Mother,” Ien replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper in her ear. “I won’t let her keep us apart.”
The look of longing left Kiera’s face, replaced by something Ien couldn’t quite decipher—fear, maybe. Or worry.
“Do you trust me?” Ien asked, his eyes locked on Kiera. The air between them crackled with the intensity of his stare.
Kiera remained quiet. For a moment, Ien couldn’t breathe. Thoughts of her refusing his proposal, rejecting him, washed over him. He trembled slightly as a small shiver cascaded down his spine.
“Never mind,” worked its way up his throat and died on his tongue, replaced by a more emphatic, “Do you trust me?”
The words startled Kiera for a moment. “Of course,” she said as she regained her composure. “Always.”
Ien reached into the pocket of his trousers, his fingers wrapped around the delicate metal of the ring. His mouth hovered dangerously close to hers. “I love you, Kiera.”
She trembled.
“I want to spend an eternity with only you,” he said in a barely-there voice.
She inhaled a sharp breath as his lips brushed against hers. Melting into him, Ien felt the yes in Kiera’s touch as they lost themselves in the moment.
Until she stiffened and pulled away, breaking the spell.
“You…” Kiera muttered. “You have to leave. We can’t.”
Ien stopped her voice with more kisses, more promises of a world filled with only them.
Kiera stepped back. “Ien, listen. We can’t do this. I won’t let you.”
Ien’s heart dropped as he saw his pain reflected in her eyes.
“It’s not that I—”
Ien again stopped her words, refusing to give in to anyone’s demands or stupid expectations.
Kiera withdrew, breathless. Tears spilled from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her expression filled with a torment that reached deep into Ien’s soul and crushed his resolve. Tore at his heart.
“Mother is wrong about this, about us,” he said, desperate to quiet Kiera’s fears. “I won’t do what she wants. Not this time. It isn’t right.” He took Kiera’s hands in his, hoping to ease the pain and confusion still etched on her dainty features.
“Ien.” Kiera’s voice, more a thought than a sound, cracked. “We can’t.”
“You are the only thing I want in my life.” Ien released her hands and turned away, walking toward the window. He ran through the proposal once more in his mind. She had to say yes, she just had to. He would die without her. Squaring his shoulders and bolstering his nerve, he turned to face his fate. “Kiera, I promise myself to you and only you,” he said as he held out the ring. “One day, when we are both of legal age and Mother cannot interfere, we will be married. She cannot stop us.”
“I think you underestimate her.”
A twinge of anger stiffened Ien’s shoulders. “And I think you underestimate me.”
Silence filled the hollow between them. “If you don’t love me, so be it,” he said as his eyes filled with tears. “But don’t hesitate because of Mother.”
Ien pulled Kiera into him, drowning her in an ocean of kisses. With each one, her objections dissolved until a single word escaped her lips.
“Yes.”
3.
“A horrid stillness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest fear.”
~John Dryden (Astraea Redux)
~
Yes. The word resonated through the air as their kisses exploded into a million promises. Lifetimes spent in each other’s embrace.
“We must keep this a secret,” he whispered the minute their kisses ended. “At least for now.”
Kiera nodded and reached around her neck, releasing the long chain that had been intertwined with the cameo’s ribbon choker. She took the ring and threaded it onto the chain.
“I love you,” she said as she replaced the chain around her neck and tucked the ring close to her heart. “Forever.”
Ien placed another kiss on her full lips and looked out of the window. A sliver of moon danced in the sky. “I have to go,” Ien said through one last kiss. “No matter what happens now, we will be together. I promise,” he whispered as he left. “Nothing will ever take you away from me.”
A wistful smile traveled from Kiera’s lips to her eyes. She closed the window, placing her palm flat against the glass. He placed his over hers, feeling her love through the thick window. “I love you,” he mouthed. “Forever.” His heart pounded as he blew her a kiss and ran into the darkness.
The walk back to Chadwick Academy passed in a blur as Ien replayed her ‘yes’ over and over. People flooded the streets, walking and talking too fast. Ien moved through them, lost in his thoughts. Unwelcome scents and sounds bombarded his senses, interrupting his thoughts.
Soot and smoke rising from never-ending construction projects.
Loud music and laughter from the seedier spots of the growing town.
Ien blocked them all, focusing on Kiera—her lips, her eyes, and her voice as she said yes.
Yes
He turned down streets and throughways, finally finding Main Street, the most direct route home. The hotels that lined the st
reet streamed past as he made the trek back to school. The Madison, Grove Street House, Main Street Plaza. Each hotel more lavish than the last. But none caught Ien’s eye as much as Clinton House.
Everything about it screamed opulence. Heavily draped walls, tapestry-like upholstered furniture, rich mahogany woodwork and gilded accents. Clinton even had the newest lighting—electric instead of oil.
The darling of the upper crust, Ien fantasized of celebrating his wedding with Kiera there, assuming Mother came to her senses and accepted their union.
He lingered at the hotel, staring into the large windows and imagining his future. The wedding. The wedding night. A lifetime together.
…I’ll love you forever…
Kiera’s words floated through his thoughts. Finally, we’ll be together. Ien touched his lips. When he’d met her two months ago, he’d never imagined spending a lifetime with her. And now, she was the only thing he wanted. The only thing he was willing to fight for.
Ien’s senses detached from everything around him as he remembered seeing Kiera for the first time. James had dragged him to a concert in an effort to take his mind off of school, Mother, and the tragedies he had shared with no one—not even James. Ien had tried to protest, making excuses about his workload. But James wouldn’t have it, and all but forced him to go.
Ien was mesmerized by Kiera from the moment she took the stage. Violin tucked under her arm, she walked with an air of both confidence and defiance that left him breathless. He had watched as she placed the instrument under her chin and drew the bow across the strings. Bach’s “Chaconne” filled the room. The sound was more than anything Ien could have expected, deeper and filled with an emotion he couldn’t define, only feel. The music varied from haunting to hopeful within a single motif. Every measure pulled Ien into another world, one filled with hope, love.
Promise.
The same promise he’d felt on her lips as she’d breathed ‘yes’. The same promise that would allow him to finally stand up to his family. A promise he, they, would be forever bound to.
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